Maximum-assistance view: every word above everyday vocabulary is explained at every appearance; each name is introduced at its first appearance in the chapter.

Chapter 6

When Oblonsky (Anna's brother, a genial Moscow official) asked Levin (a landowner who farms his own estate in the country) what had brought him to town, Levin blushed (to redden with shame), and was furious (raging) with himself for blushing (reddening with shame), because he could not answer, “I have come to make your sister-in-law (a husband's or wife's sister) an offer,” though that was precisely (exactly) what he had come for.

The families of the Levins (the Levin family) and the Shtcherbatskys (the Shtcherbatsky family) were old, noble (high-born; morally lofty) Moscow families, and had always been on intimate (closely familiar) and friendly terms. This intimacy (close familiar friendship) had grown still closer during Levin’s student days. He had both prepared for the university with the young Prince Shtcherbatsky (the family name of Kitty and Dolly), the brother of Kitty (the youngest of the Shtcherbatsky sisters) and Dolly (the eldest Shtcherbatsky sister, married to Oblonsky), and had entered at the same time with him. In those days Levin used (use: habit; custom — the old sense here) often to be in the Shtcherbatskys’ house, and he was in love with the Shtcherbatsky household (the people living together in one house). Strange as it may appear, it was with the household (the people living together in one house), the family, that Konstantin (Levin's first name) Levin was in love, especially with the feminine (of women) half of the household (the people living together in one house). Levin did not remember his own mother, and his only sister was older than he was, so that it was in the Shtcherbatskys’ house that he saw for the first time that inner life of an old, noble (high-born; morally lofty), cultivated (to till the soil; to nurture), and honorable (worthy of honor) family of which he had been deprived (to take away from) by the death of his father and mother. All the members of that family, especially the feminine (of women) half, were pictured by him, as it were, wrapped (to fold a covering around) about with a mysterious (hidden and unexplained) poetical (of poetry) veil (a thin covering cloth), and he not only perceived (to see and grasp) no defects (a flaw; to desert one's side) whatever in them, but under the poetical (of poetry) veil (a thin covering cloth) that shrouded (wrapped and hidden) them he assumed the existence of the loftiest (high and grand) sentiments (a tender feeling) and every possible perfection (perfect completeness). Why it was the three young ladies had one day to speak French, and the next English; why it was that at certain hours they played by turns on the piano (the keyed hammer instrument), the sounds of which were audible (loud enough to hear) in their brother’s room above, where the students used (use: habit; custom — the old sense here) to work; why they were visited by those professors of French literature, of music, of drawing, of dancing; why at certain hours all the three young ladies, with Mademoiselle Linon (the French governess of the Shtcherbatsky girls), drove in the coach to the Tversky (a Russian family name) boulevard (a broad tree-lined street), dressed in their satin (glossy smooth silk) cloaks (a loose outer wrap), Dolly in a long one, Natalia (a Russian woman's name) in a half-long (of middling length) one, and Kitty in one so short that her shapely (well shaped) legs in tightly-drawn (pulled tight) red stockings (a knitted leg covering) were visible (able to be seen) to all beholders (one who looks on); why it was they had to walk about the Tversky boulevard (a broad tree-lined street) escorted (a guarding company) by a footman (a liveried man servant) with a gold cockade (a knot of ribbon worn on a hat as a badge) in his hat—all this and much more that was done in their mysterious (hidden and unexplained) world he did not understand, but he was sure that everything that was done there was very good, and he was in love precisely (exactly) with the mystery (a hidden truth) of the proceedings (going on; a step taken).

In his student days he had all but been in love with the eldest (the eldest), Dolly, but she was soon married to Oblonsky. Then he began being in love with the second. He felt, as it were, that he had to be in love with one of the sisters, only he could not quite make out which. But Natalia, too, had hardly made her appearance in the world when she married the diplomat (an agent between states) Lvov (a Russian family name). Kitty was still a child when Levin left the university. Young Shtcherbatsky went into the navy, was drowned (to die in water; to cover over with sound) in the Baltic (the sea between northern Europe and Scandinavia), and Levin’s relations with the Shtcherbatskys, in spite (ill will) of his friendship (the bond of friends) with Oblonsky, became less intimate (closely familiar). But when early in the winter of this year Levin came to Moscow, after a year in the country, and saw the Shtcherbatskys, he realized which of the three sisters he was indeed destined (fixed by fate) to love.

One would have thought that nothing could be simpler than for him, a man of good family, rather rich than poor, and thirty-two years old, to make the young Princess Shtcherbatskaya (the family name Shtcherbatsky in its female form) an offer of marriage; in all likelihood (probability) he would at once have been looked upon as a good match. But Levin was in love, and so it seemed to him that Kitty was so perfect in every respect that she was a creature (a living being) far above everything earthly (of this world); and that he was a creature (a living being) so low and so earthly (of this world) that it could not even be conceived (to form in the mind) that other people and she herself could regard (to look upon; respect) him as worthy (deserving) of her.

After spending two months in Moscow in a state (state: ceremony; pomp — the old sense here) of enchantment (magical delight), seeing Kitty almost every day in society, into which he went so as to meet her, he abruptly (suddenly and shortly) decided that it could not be, and went back to the country.

Levin’s conviction (settled belief; a finding of guilt) that it could not be was founded on the idea that in the eyes of her family he was a disadvantageous (unfavorable) and worthless (without worth) match for the charming (delightfully attractive) Kitty, and that Kitty herself could not love him. In her family’s eyes he had no ordinary (usual; common), definite (clear and fixed) career and position in society, while his contemporaries (of the same time) by this time, when he was thirty-two, were already, one a colonel (an officer commanding a regiment), and another a professor, another director of a bank and railways (a road of rails for trains), or president of a board like Oblonsky. But he (he knew very well how he must appear to others) was a country gentleman (a man of good birth and manners), occupied (to hold; to fill) in breeding (upbringing and manners) cattle (cows and oxen), shooting game, and building barns (a farm storehouse); in other words, a fellow of no ability, who had not turned out well, and who was doing just what, according to the ideas of the world, is done by people fit for nothing else.

The mysterious (hidden and unexplained), enchanting (delighted as by magic) Kitty herself could not love such an ugly (not pleasing to see) person as he conceived (to form in the mind) himself to be, and, above all, such an ordinary (usual; common), in no way striking person. Moreover (besides), his attitude to Kitty in the past—the attitude of a grown-up (a grown person) person to a child, arising (to come up) from his friendship (the bond of friends) with her brother—seemed to him yet another obstacle (a thing in the way) to love. An ugly (not pleasing to see), good-natured (kindly by nature) man, as he considered himself, might, he supposed, be liked as a friend; but to be loved with such a love as that with which he loved Kitty, one would need to be a handsome (fine-looking) and, still more, a distinguished (of marked honor) man.

He had heard that women often did care for ugly (not pleasing to see) and ordinary (usual; common) men, but he did not believe it, for he judged by himself, and he could not himself have loved any but beautiful, mysterious (hidden and unexplained), and exceptional (out of the common) women.

But after spending two months alone in the country, he was convinced (to bring to belief) that this was not one of those passions (burning feeling) of which he had had experience in his early youth; that this feeling gave him not an instant (a moment; immediate)’s rest; that he could not live without deciding the question, would she or would she not be his wife, and that his despair (loss of all hope) had arisen (to come up) only from his own imaginings (picturing in the mind), that he had no sort of proof that he would be rejected (to cast aside). And he had now come to Moscow with a firm determination (fixed resolve) to make an offer, and get married if he were accepted. Or ... he could not conceive (to form in the mind) what would become of him if he were rejected (to cast aside).